


Just the Way You Are

by halcyon1993



Series: The Kinky Adventures of a Wolf and His Boy [69]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Derek Hale Has a Big Dick, First Full Moon, First Time, Kissing, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Marathon Sex, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Riding, Scent Kink, Stiles Stilinski Has a Vagina, Top Derek Hale, Trans Male Character, Trans Stiles Stilinski, True Mates, Vaginal Sex, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:17:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: On the night of Stiles’ first full moon, the tension between him and Derek becomes too much and he finally tells the Alpha a secret he’s kept for as long as they’ve known each other. Derek proves to Stiles that it doesn’t matter to him in the slightest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HEllmersy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HEllmersy/gifts).

> Three things before you dive in:
> 
> 1) The first part of this is all set-up. The second part will contain the smut.
> 
> 2) This prompt hinges on a female Beta's form being different to a male Beta's. I haven't watched the show since 2014, so I can't recall if this was actually the case in canon. Either way, for the purposes of this fic, it is.
> 
> 3) Also, I'd like to say that I tried to be as delicate as possible when writing this fic. The last thing I'd want is to offend anyone. This fic wasn't meant to fetishise trans people or be any sort of social/political commentary in any way. It's simply supposed to be about Stiles being accepted as a trans man by his pack—and by Derek specifically. Let me know if I succeeded in this, or if there's anything I could change to make it better. Finally, let's all just breeze past the issue of whatever hormone therapy Stiles might've been on possibly not working anymore with his new werewolf physiology. *nervous laughter*

Derek wrinkles his nose as the sour scent of distress washes over him. The source is easy to find—Stiles, standing a few feet away in the clearing in the middle of the preserve. The rest of the Hale Pack is present too, all gathered on the night of the full moon to support a new Beta joining them. Usually, it would be a cause for celebration, but not this time. No, this time, the Beta wasn't turned willingly.

It happened two weeks ago, when an Alpha werewolf intruded in Beacon Hills and Stiles had the misfortune of running into him. Stiles wasn't defenceless, having taken to carrying mountain ash and wolfsbane around with him just in case, but there was still a scuffle, and Stiles ended up with a sluggishly bleeding bite mark on his right arm, where the Alpha sank his fangs deep. Derek, having heard Stiles screaming, raced to the scene in record time and killed the interloper without compunction—his mother taught him that turning a human without their express consent is an egregious act, especially when it's done in another pack's territory—but it was too late.

Stiles was already bitten and would become a werewolf.

Derek guesses that's the cause of Stiles' distress tonight. He never wanted to be a werewolf, so it has to be difficult coming to grips with it.

"Is it almost time?" Erica asks impatiently. She leans against a tree in one of the tight T-shirts she prefers and a skirt so short she would probably reveal too much if she bent over.

"Soon," Derek tells her.

He's leaning against a tree too, on the opposite side of the clearing, his arms crossed over his chest. He wears a long-sleeved red henley with a V-neck and a pair of jeans.

"But I'm bored!" Erica complains with a huff.

"Tough shit."

"Ugh…"

Fortunately for Derek's sanity, everyone else in the pack is a lot more patient than Erica. They all talk amongst themselves in small groups as the adrenaline slowly pulses through their veins, as the lure of the moon nears its apex. When Derek can sense that it's just minutes away, he pushes away from his tree and approaches Stiles. The excited discussions around him cease as all eyes turn to him, each of his Betas knowing without having to ask that it's time and they should stay quiet so as not to overwhelm Stiles.

"You doing okay?" Derek enquires when he reaches the eighteen-year-old.

Stiles turns away from Scott and nods stiffly, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"I know it's difficult, and it's not what you wanted, but I'll help you through this," Derek promises earnestly. He puts a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"I know." Stiles smiles shakily. "I trust you."

Such an easy admission affects Derek greatly, although he doesn't show it. He and Stiles have always had a strange connection, even back when they did nothing but annoy each other. Ever since things calmed down and their relationship became more friendly, Derek's feelings toward Stiles have morphed into something else. Stiles still irritates the shit out of him sometimes, usually on purpose, but now Derek doesn't mind it as much. He actually kind of likes it, and he just likes Stiles in general too—as more than a friend.

There have been hints that Stiles feels the same way about him, but he's never said anything and even seems to avoid getting too close to Derek for too long, so Derek can't be sure. It's like Stiles is helplessly drawn to him, but then he'll remember something and pull back again. It's confusing, and Derek decided to leave it be until Stiles figured himself out.

He didn't want to pressure him.

It's selfish of him, but as Derek stands there under the night sky, there's a small part of him that hopes Stiles being turned into a werewolf will be the catalyst to the remaining distance Stiles keeps between them closing.

"Any second now…" Scott murmurs, looking up at the moon. He has a hand pressed to Stiles' back, rubbing up and down reassuringly.

Sure enough, just fifteen seconds later—Derek counts—he feels his inner wolf fighting to break to the surface. It longs to overtake his human half and run free through the preserve, to hunt down prey indiscriminately, be it animal or human, and sink its fangs into them to tear them apart. Derek doesn't give into it, of course. It isn't even a struggle, hasn't been since he was a teenager and his parents finished teaching him control. It's more tense for his Betas since they haven't been werewolves their whole lives like he has, but Derek is certain that none of them will lose control of themselves.

The same can't be said for Stiles.

The boy has his head bowed now and shakes. Derek is ready for anything, for Stiles' new instincts to make him pick a fight or flee, but in the meantime, he scents the air again to get a better read on how his new Beta is feeling.

Anxiousness.

Exhilaration.

Fear.

Even a bit of lust—and not for blood.

Derek didn't expect that last one. Huh.

For another few moments, nothing happens, and then…

Stiles leaps forward, takes Derek to the ground and lands on top of him. Derek only goes down because of his surprise, having anticipated a fist to come at him if Stiles got violent and not a full-body tackle, but his surprise only lasts a second and then he's ready to subdue his new Beta before he can hurt him or himself. None of his other Betas attempt to intervene, which Derek is grateful for. They'd only get in the way, and he's more than capable of taking care of this by himself.

It's his job anyway, as the Hale Pack Alpha.

"Stiles!" he yells, grabbing the boy's wrists and flipping them around, pinning him to the ground. "Find your anchor and focus on it!"

They talked more in depth about this the day before, and Stiles swore he thought he already had his anchor figured out. Derek prays he was right, otherwise they came to the preserve tonight woefully underprepared. He should've insisted on shackles or something, like he did for Erica, Boyd and Isaac during their first full moon.

Although, considering how well that night went…

For another minute or so, Stiles fights him, snapping his fangs and growling constantly, but then he suddenly does still, his golden eyes staring up into red.

"You good?" Derek asks.

Stiles nods, but Derek still waits another moment before releasing him, just in case Stiles isn't as in control as he thinks. When nothing else happens, he lets go of Stiles' wrists and makes to get back to his feet, but he doesn't make it far. As soon as he notices that Derek is getting off of him, Stiles growls low in the back of his throat and fists a hand in the front of Derek's henley, his claws ripping through the fabric. He yanks the Alpha down so that their mouths slam together, and at the same time, he wraps his legs around Derek's hips and holds him so tightly that, if Derek were human, the bones of his pelvis would probably break.

"Okay!" Derek hears Isaac say distantly. "I think that's our cue to leave."

"Yeah…" Allison agrees, sounding as if she's already walking. Scott protests weakly, but she insists and drags him away with her.

As for Derek, as the footsteps of his pack fade, he still has yet to really register what's going on. He's still hovering over Stiles, and their mouths are still connected, Stiles nipping with sharp fangs at his lips, but he's completely unmoving, in shock.

Eventually, when Derek's brain comes back online, he yanks himself away, using his Alpha strength to break free of Stiles' hold. "Stiles! What are you doing?" he demands, kicking up dirt as he scrambles across the ground until there are several feet between them.

Stiles continues to watch him with those golden eyes, and Derek knows that the wolf is the only one home right now. He just didn't expect Stiles' wolf to manifest like…this.

"C'mon, you can do this, Stiles," Derek talks him through it, holding up his palms in an effort to placate.

Stiles growls again. The sound isn't menacing but filled with desire.

Desire for Derek.

In the back of his mind, Derek is pleased because it confirms to him that Stiles _does_ like him back. But he can't let anything happen like this. Consent is incredibly important to him. He felt that way even before Kate got her metaphorical claws into him, but it's even more important now. There's no way Stiles can properly consent to anything happening between them while he's in this state, at the mercy of the full moon and his newly emerged wolf, so Derek can't allow anything else. Even the kiss was pushing it—although he can't bring himself to regret it.

"You smell so good," Stiles says, the first words he's spoken since turning.

Derek braces himself for the Beta to pounce on him again, but Stiles just stays where he is, sprawled on the ground, leaning up on his elbows with his eyes piercing Derek's. Derek is unnerved by this, but he keeps up his quiet encouragement until human intelligence slowly returns to Stiles' eyes and his Beta shift fades away entirely, leaving his human features looking scared and resigned.

"Fuck!" the eighteen-year-old hisses under his breath. He leaps to his feet and turns his back to Derek.

Feeling safe to get up now too, Derek approaches Stiles, puts a hand on his arm and turns him around. "Stiles? Are you okay?"

The boy's gaze is glued to Derek's chest. "I guess I should probably tell you now," he murmurs.

"Tell me what?"

"About my secret." Stiles inhales deeply through his nose. "Fuck, why do you still smell so good?"

Derek is flattered. He copies Stiles, filling his nostrils with the sweet yet musky scent of the boy. "You smell good too. I guess it's just because we're so compatible."

"Yeah…"

"Anyway, about this secret," Derek says. "I'm definitely curious now—and from how you're acting, it's obviously something serious—but you don't have to tell me."

Stiles shakes his head and sighs. "No, it's fine. I've been wanting to tell you for a long time, but I couldn't work up the nerve. There was that little voice in the back of my head that always stopped me, y'know? And I guess I thought I could keep pushing it back because nothing ever happened between us, so I didn't have to tell you yet."

Derek frowns, confused. "Why would you _have_ to tell me?"

"Because some people would find it gross or it would change their mind," Stiles answers, wrinkling his nose. "That's what's been holding me back: the fear that _you'd_ react that way. But I guess it's better to know now than before I got more invested in this thing that's between us."

Every word Stiles speaks only heightens Derek's bafflement. His mind races, trying to figure out what Stiles is talking about, but he can't come up with anything that seems even remotely plausible.

"My Dad, Scott and Melissa are the only people in my life who already know. And my doctor, obviously," Stiles says, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. "I don't think you'll hate me—you're not that kind of guy—and I don't think anyone in the pack would either. Maybe Jackson would make a stupid joke or two, but he's not actually _that_ much of a jackass deep down, and Lydia would keep him in line if it looked like he was going too far with it. So I guess here goes nothing."

Derek holds his breath.

"I'm trans," Stiles reveals, raising his head and meeting the Alpha's gaze. His expression is like he's expecting the worst but is determined to see it through anyway.

Derek blinks, dumbfounded, because that answer wasn't anywhere in his mind. "Oh."

He struggles to process this new information. He never would've suspected, but as it sinks in, it recontextualises Stiles' distress before the full moon hit. It was likely still caused by not wanting to be a werewolf like Derek initially thought, but he believes now that the issue goes a lot deeper.

Derek is mature enough to admit that he's ignorant about a lot of what goes into transitioning, but even _he_ knows that there's hormone replacement therapy and possible surgeries, depending on what the individual wants. Stiles being a werewolf—and having the heightened healing factor and metabolism that comes with that—could definitely complicate things. He considers bringing all of this up now, perhaps brainstorming solutions, but in the end, he decides not to. He's sure Stiles is already well aware of everything he just thought of, and it's probably best if he lets Stiles take the lead with things that pertain to his own body.

Fuck.

When Derek has finished processing, he sees that Stiles is still watching him with that same determined yet wary expression, so he hurries to say something else. "Okay," he says simply.

Stiles blinks and his mouth drops open. "_Okay_?"

"Yeah."

"That's it?"

Derek shrugs, playing it off like it doesn't matter because, the more he thinks about it, the less it does. He doesn't care what Stiles has between his legs. "Yeah. I mean, you're still you, right?"

Nodding slowly, Stiles' eyes seem suspiciously glassy, like he's close to crying. "Uh-huh," he chokes out.

"Then yeah, okay. It doesn't matter to me."

With a soft sniffle, Stiles rubs at his eyes and then blinks a few times to clear them of tears, his breathing shaky. "That went better than I thought it would."

Derek suspects that someone else might've been told or found out at some point and didn't react well. Or if that didn't happen, it seems only natural that Stiles would still feel fear. The world can be a very harsh and judgmental place, especially for anyone who doesn't fit the norm—and Derek can't even imagine navigating dating in Stiles' shoes. If it's really anything like Stiles said, then…wow.

"Thank you for telling me," Derek says earnestly. He opens his arms. "Come here."

Stiles moves willingly into his embrace and tucks his face into the side of Derek's neck. It feels incredibly intimate, but Derek doesn't mind. He's too content to finally be able to do this, and if there's anyone he would ever trust to get their mouth—and therefore their fangs—this close to his neck, it would be Stiles.

They stand there for a few minutes as Stiles calms down, and then it's like the pull of the full moon returns, Stiles' clawed hands fisting in the back of Derek's shirt and his breathing becoming shaky for a whole different reason. Derek still has his reservations about them doing anything while Stiles is affected by the moon, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it too, his cock beginning to plump up in his underwear. A few kisses can't hurt, so he allows Stiles to connect their mouths again.

"You're hard," Stiles comments breathlessly a minute later, resting their foreheads together.

"S'that okay?"

"It's more than okay, dude."

Derek huffs. "Don't call me 'dude'."

"Sorry. Would it be better if you called you…_Alpha_?"

The way the title falls off of Stiles' tongue makes Derek crazy, so much so that, even with his high level of control, he can't stop his eyes from glowing red. "Stiles…"

Said boy just chuckles. "I guess you like that, huh? Should I be jealous of the others calling you that?"

Derek shakes his head and pushes back his wolf, retaking full control. "No."

"So it's just me saying that that affects you so much?"

"Yes. Don't let it go to your head, though."

Stiles laughs. "I'll try."

"Asshole."

This only makes Stiles laugh harder, but because it means he's no longer upset, Derek doesn't get annoyed.

After his laughter tapers off, Stiles looks around the clearing. "I guess that's it, then."

"For now." Derek elaborates when Stiles frowns at him. "You've got decent control when we're just standing in the middle of the preserve at night, but we're far away from anyone else and all the sounds and smells in town. That's going to be a lot tougher for you to deal with. You remember how difficult Scott found it at first?"

Stiles nods. "Yeah, you've got a point. But I won't be fighting it or denying what's happening to me like he did."

"True."

"Better safe than sorry, though, right?"

"Right."

"I guess that means you'll have to come back to my place with me to make sure I don't hurt anyone."

Derek narrows his eyes, easily reading between the lines. "We're not having sex yet," he asserts.

Stiles smirks and waggles his eyebrows. "Sure I can't seduce you?"

"You probably could," Derek grudgingly admits, "but I know you won't."

"Oh yeah? How come?"

"Because I said so. And I don't want our first time together to be when we're both under the influence of the full moon. It wouldn't be right."

"Fine," Stiles says petulantly. "I guess we couldn't do anything anyway, seeing as my Dad's still home."

"He isn't working tonight?"

"Nah, he took tonight off because it was my first full moon. He wouldn't have been able to do his job properly. He's probably still awake, waiting up. He was even more anxious about how tonight would go than I was."

Derek grabs Stiles' hand and pulls him in the direction of where they parked their vehicles. "Let's go put him out of his misery, then."

Stiles grins. "Sure."

* * *

Half an hour later, Derek parks his Camaro on the street outside of the Stilinskis' house and approaches Stiles, who's getting out of his Jeep in the driveway. The Sheriff's cruiser is there too, and like Stiles thought, the living room light is on, meaning the Sheriff is still awake.

"How d'you wanna do this?" Stiles asks him when they're next to each other.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean d'you just wanna tell him how the full moon stuff went, or include the stuff about…y'know, _us_," Stiles clarifies.

Derek doesn't really have an opinion either way. He and the Sheriff get along well nowadays, and he doesn't believe the older man would be against it. "I'll leave that up to you."

"That's generous of you."

"I'm a generous guy."

Stiles snorts and leads the way up the path to the front door. It's unlocked, so he goes right inside with Derek on his heels.

"Stiles?" the Sheriff calls from the next room. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, Dad!" Stiles shouts back, slipping off his shoes.

Derek does the same thing and follows Stiles into the living room, where they find the Sheriff sitting in his armchair with a tumbler of whiskey balanced on the armrest.

"How did it go?" the Sheriff enquires, flicking his eyes between his son and Derek.

"Pretty good, actually," Stiles responds, throwing himself down on the sofa. He proceeds to tell his Dad all about it and, at least for now, leaves out the part where he kissed Derek.

When he's done, the Sheriff clears his throat and leans forward to put his tumbler on the coffee table. "And what about…" He glances at Derek. "What about the other thing?"

"It's okay, Dad." Stiles looks at Derek too, smiling. "He knows I'm trans now."

"And he didn't have a problem with it?"

"Nope."

The Sheriff breathes a sigh of relief. "Good. I guess that means I don't need _this_ anymore," he says, sitting up and reaching behind himself. He pulls a handgun out from the back of the armchair and puts it next to his tumbler.

"Dad!" Stiles cries, offended on Derek's behalf.

Derek himself can't really blame him. If he _did_ react badly to Stiles being trans, he can understand the Sheriff's instinct to protect his son.

The Sheriff looks at Stiles unrepentantly. "What?"

"You were gonna shoot him?!"

"I wasn't going to kill him, if that's what you were worried out."

"Oh, just hurt him a little?" Stiles presses disbelievingly. "You didn't need to do that."

"No, but I would've wanted to."

"Stiles," Derek says, putting his hand on the boy's thigh before he can think better of it. He realises how this must look when he sees the Sheriff's gaze on his hand, but by then it's too late, so he doesn't take it back. "It's okay. Nothing happened, so you don't need to get upset for me. I'm fine."

Stiles harrumphs. "Whatever."

"So," the Sheriff says then, resting both hands on the ends of the armrests of his armchair. "You two, huh?"

"Uhh…" Stiles bows his head, and his cheeks heat up. "Yeah."

"Derek, I don't need to give you the speech about what'll happen if you deliberately hurt him, right?" the Sheriff threatens.

Stiles glares. "The shovel talk? Really, Dad?"

"No, Sir," Derek says, squeezing Stiles' thigh. "I would never do anything to hurt him, at least not intentionally."

"_Him_ is sitting right here…" Stiles grumbles.

"Then I think we'll get along just fine." The Sheriff stifles a yawn and stands up. "Now that I know everything went alright, I'm going to bed. Are you staying, Derek?"

After sharing a glance with Stiles, Derek nods.

"Then I'll see you both in the morning," the Sheriff accepts. He picks up his gun and takes it with him as he walks toward the foyer, but he stops to add something else before he actually exits the room. "And I'm not going to give you two the safe sex talk because I like to think my son's responsible enough by now not to need it, but I _will_ say I don't want to see or hear anything. Alright?"

"Jeez, alright, Dad!" Stiles responds, his cheeks heating up.

"Yes, Sir," Derek adds.

The Sheriff nods at both of them. "Good."

Once Stiles' Dad is upstairs, Stiles groans. "That was embarrassing."

"It wasn't so bad."

"Easy for you to say. If it was _your_ Dad saying that shit, you'd be just as embarrassed. Admit it."

Derek doesn't bother to conceal his amusement, the corners of his lips curling. "Fine."

Stiles leans into his side then, and Derek wraps his arm around Stiles' shoulders. "It's so weird," the teenager says, peering up at the ceiling.

"What is?"

"I can still hear his heartbeat so clearly. I can hear yours too. Hell, if I concentrate, I can hear what the people three streets over are doing right this second."

Derek rubs his hand up and down over Stiles' arm. "You'll get used to it and learn to block it out. It just takes practice."

"I guess. I'm not complaining about hearing _your_ heartbeat, though. S'nice."

For another half an hour or so, Derek sits with Stiles on the sofa and talks with him about the different techniques he can use to stop himself from becoming overwhelmed by all the stimuli around him. Stiles tries a couple of them and finds little success, but he doesn't get frustrated with himself.

"Practice, just like I said," Derek reminds him.

"Yeah."

When Stiles yawns too, Derek gestures to the foyer. "Should we go up as well?"

"Probably a good idea. Thank God it's the weekend tomorrow. I dunno how I'd cope being in school yet."

"You'll get there—and while you're in school, you'll have Scott and the others around to help you stay calm."

"True."

Upstairs now, Stiles uses the bathroom first, and after he's emerged dressed in some Spider-Man pyjamas, Derek takes his turn. He relieves himself, brushes his teeth with Stiles' toothpaste and a spare toothbrush from beneath the sink, and when he's done, his mouth minty-fresh, he switches off the light and ventures across the hall to Stiles' bedroom. Stiles scurries about clearing things off of his bed to make room for them both, being careful so he doesn't make too much noise. His MacBook is the last thing to go, Stiles putting it in the middle of his desk across the room, and then he pulls back the bedsheets.

"You're good with sharing, right?" he questions, looking suddenly unsure.

Derek steps forward. "I am if you are," he confirms.

"Okay. Okay, that's good."

"Do you mind if I take my jeans off? I can leave them on if you want me to, but they're kind of uncomfortable to sleep in."

Stiles nearly chokes on his own spit, and he has to cough before he can answer. "N-no, go ahead."

Derek undoes the button and zipper and pushes his jeans down his legs. He steps out of them, folds them up and drapes them over the back of Stiles' desk chair.

"That's…" Stiles gapes when Derek turns back to face him, his gaze fixed on Derek's lower half—his bulge, specifically. "That's, uh…wow."

Derek arches an eyebrow. "Wow?"

"Hey, don't judge me!" Stiles pouts, shaking himself out of it. "I've never seen you in your boxers before, so excuse me for needing a sec' to get over it."

Derek chuckles. "C'mon, let's go to sleep, okay? You can stare at me some more another time."

"Meanie…"

After turning off the light in the bedroom too, Derek gets into one side of Stiles' bed and Stiles gets into the other. They lie stiffly next to each other, and then Stiles gets the courage to change things.

"Fuck it, this is stupid," he whispers, shuffling closer. He curls into Derek's side and rests his head on Derek's chest, his arm thrown over the Alpha's waist. "There. That's better."

Derek smiles to himself. "Yeah, it is."

He closes his eyes and wraps his arm around Stiles' back. The boy falls asleep quickly, and the sound of his quiet snores soon lulls Derek under too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the beginning notes, this was just meant to be a cute fic about Derek finding out that Stiles is trans and accepting it without question. How'd I do? What was your favourite part of this first chapter?
> 
> I'd like to say thanks to HEllmersy2001 for giving me this prompt. I hope this first part was everything you wanted it to be, and that you'll enjoy the conclusion just as much. :)
> 
> Stay tuned for the second and final part, in which our boys get frisky.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


	2. Chapter 2

The next month is tough for Stiles as he gets used to his new life as a werewolf. He nearly loses control of himself several times, barely holding back his beta shift around the unsuspecting denizens of Beacon Hills when a sound gets too loud or he encounters someone particularly annoying. Luckily for him—and for those denizens—Stiles always has another beta or Derek himself accompanying him to help bring him back under control or get him out of the situation when it's untenable.

Because he's struggled so much, Stiles hasn't had the chance to actually do anything sexual with Derek, much to his disappointment. He wants to finally know what all the hype is about—and the fact that Derek hasn't treated him any differently since he told him his secret only makes Stiles want it more. Derek is the only person he'd trust with his body like that. It makes it tougher to say goodbye to him whenever they part ways or to keep his hands to himself whenever he and Derek end up in the same bed again, like the night of his first full moon.

He's also sure that none of this is lost on Derek. The way the Alpha's irises flash red whenever Stiles feels a surge of arousal gives it away. Stiles can smell it from Derek too sometimes. It's validating. He could never smell it with his human nose, but it's incontrovertible proof that Derek finds him just as attractive.

Still, Stiles knows waiting is the right thing to do. Derek could handle it, he's sure, but he doesn't want to lose control in the sack and end up accidentally hurting the Alpha.

In the fifth week, Stiles believes he's finally ready. He hasn't had a paroxysm of anger or upset in a full seven days, so when he and Derek are at his house and the Sheriff leaves to go to the station, Stiles locks the door behind him and sets his poorly formed plan of seduction into practice. He reenters the living room and stands in between Derek and the TV instead of sitting down next to him.

Derek arches an eyebrow at him. He looks casual as can be, slightly slouched down, legs spread, one arm draped along the back of the sofa. "Something you want?"

"Maybe," Stiles says, cocking his head to the side. He doesn't try to hide it when he checks out his boyfriend—that thought still gives him a thrill—running his eyes over Derek's thick legs, flat stomach, impressive pecs and finally his face.

Said face is nothing but knowing. "Oh yeah?"

Stiles snatches up the remote, switches off the TV and tosses it in the seat he vacated a minute ago.

"No more TV, then?" Derek observes, thin lips stretching into a cheekily smile.

"Nope."

"Guess I'd better get back to the loft." Derek stands and stretches his arms above his head. His henley rides up and shows off a strip of his toned stomach. "Seeing as you're obviously tired and ready for bed and all."

With a frustrated growl, Stiles follows Derek into the foyer and grabs his wrist before he can take his leather jacket off of the hook on the wall.

Derek stays where he is, his pupils slightly dilated. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah, you asshole! I know you know what I want, so stop messing around," Stiles pouts, shaking his wrist.

Derek purses his lips. "Let's pretend I don't. I think you're gonna just have to come right out and say it."

With a roll of his eyes, Stiles uses his werewolf strength to drag Derek over to the bottom of the stairs. He gets one stair up, turns around and rests his forearms on Derek's broad shoulders. "I wanna have sex, okay?" he says, unimpressed.

Derek immediately ceases his impishness, his countenance turning serious. "You sure? We don't have to have sex yet, y'know, if you're not ready."

"Oh, I'm ready," Stiles asserts.

"But—"

"_Listen to me_," Stiles interrupts. He squeezes Derek's shoulders tightly. "I'm grateful you're being so cautious and would be fine with it if I needed more time, but I don't, okay? I'm more than ready."

Derek is quiet for a few moments. He looks into Stiles' eyes, most likely searching for the truth of his words. He must see it, because in the next second he releases a long breath and nods. "Alright. I believe you."

"Good, 'cause I've wanted to climb you like a tree for months now and I'm not waiting any longer."

"You sure know how to sweet-talk a guy," Derek jokes, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"I try. Now, c'mon, I've already got everything in my room."

Stiles dashes up the rest of the stairs and is glad to hear Derek's footsteps right behind him.

"And by everything, you mean—" Derek says as they enter Stiles' bedroom.

"Condoms, lube, a dildo…y'know, the usual stuff," Stiles replies as he shuts his door.

An adorable frown forms between Derek's eyebrows. "A dildo?"

Stiles smirks and rests a hand on Derek's chest, feeling his heart beating fast beneath his palm. "Well yeah, a boy's got needs, Der-bear."

"Oh. Right."

"And besides," Stiles continues, walking around him to his bedside table, "a dildo might come in handy one of these days."

"And why's that?"

"Because there's no way I'm gonna be together with you and go nowhere near that bubble butt of yours." Stiles looks back at Derek over his shoulder with an expression that clearly gets across that he's questioning Derek's intelligence.

Derek seems to blue-screen for a bit, his face carefully blank and his eyes unblinking, before he comes back online and shakes his head slightly. "You want to—"

"Fuck you with it? Yeah, definitely. Just because I don't actually have a dick of my own doesn't mean I can't show you a good time like that, Sourwolf."

Once he's taken the necessary supplies out of the their designated drawer and set them on top of the nightstand for easy access later, Stiles turns back around and curls a finger at Derek, urging him to join him near the bed. He sticks his index fingers through Derek's belt loops to bring their middles together and is relieved to feel something long and hard against his own crotch, meaning that Derek wasn't turned off by the talk of Stiles fucking him. He would've understood and dropped it were that the case, but Stiles definitely would've been disappointed.

Derek places his big hands on Stiles' hips. "So what d'you want to do tonight, then?"

"Well, it's still my first time, so just something vanilla for now," Stiles says, bringing their lips together for a chaste kiss. "We can do the kinky stuff another night."

"Alright."

Stiles shuts his eyes and releases a quiet sound of contentment when Derek initiates another kiss. It starts out simple like the first, but soon enough, Derek swipes his tongue out over his lips. He parts them on a sigh and fists his hands in the front of Derek's henley as the kiss gets deeper and more passionate, loving the taste of the older man and the way his facial hair scrapes over his own smooth face. It gets even better when Derek gently winds his thick fingers through his hair and angles his head just so.

"Fuck, I want you so bad," Stiles rasps, already breathless. He's getting wet too.

"Me too." Derek pulls back and peels up his shirt, discarding it off to the side.

Stiles gawks a bit, stunned as always by the bulging muscles and chest hair, but he gets with the programme when Derek undoes the fastenings of his jeans.

He strips his shirt off first too, only marginally shy about his body. Thanks to HRT and surgery, his torso looks pretty much how he wants it to, and even the scarring beneath his chest is faint enough that no one would notice if they weren't looking closely. He sits down on the edge of his bed and shimmies out of his chinos while Derek kicks off his jeans, and then they're both in front of each other in just their underwear.

Derek's arousal is obvious, the front of his boxer-briefs barely containing him. Stiles hasn't seen that part of him yet, but he's clearly very well-endowed.

He's a bit jealous, if he's honest. He keeps it to himself because it doesn't matter.

"You still good?" Derek checks in, insinuating himself between Stiles' knees.

"Y-yeah…"

"Sure?"

Stiles nods and can't resist touching. He skates his fingers over Derek's abs—lickable—ruffling the fine hairs that lead down to the prize he's after.

"How about this," he offers, staring sincerely up into Derek's pretty eyes. "Unless I say something, just assume I'm fine with what's happening. Okay?"

Derek responds with a slow nod. "And you _will_ say something if that's not the case."

Stiles proffers his pinky finger. "Pinky promise."

With a huff that's somehow both exasperated and fond, Derek links his own little finger with Stiles' and gives it a small shake.

"Great!" Stiles chirps, going back to touching his sexy Sourwolf. He teases the waistband of his boxer-briefs. "Now that that's settled, can I take these off? _Finally_?"

"Go ahead."

Tamping down the urge for a victorious fist-pump, Stiles curls his fingers around the waistband of Derek's last remaining article of clothing and slowly pulls it down his legs. It gets stuck briefly on Derek's erection, so Stiles has to stretch the elastic a bit to free it—and his mind promptly empties of all thought when Derek's cock springs up, smacks against his abs and then comes to a stop, sticking out long and hard from a nest of dark curls at the base.

"I think you broke me…" he mumbles. He's too in awe to say much else.

Derek snorts and remains stationary, allowing Stiles to take him in unabashedly. "I'll try not to let it go to my head."

"Cool."

Stiles quickly shoves Derek's underwear the rest of the way down his legs, where they're promptly kicked off to the side. "Wow…look at you…"

He has to get his hands on him pronto. He curls a hand around Derek's shaft, marvelling at how it's so thick that his fingers don't touch his thumb, and gives it a cursory few strokes. It's so weird actually touching a dick that's not made of silicone. It's everything Stiles hoped it would be and more—warm and alive in his hands, twitching every now and then as if Derek is holding himself back from thrusting into his grip.

The best part? Foreskin. Oh lord, the foreskin…

"You're uncut," he notes.

"Yeah." Derek shuffles his feet, a nervous tic. "Is that…a problem?"

"Hell no!"

Derek startles, caught off-guard by Stiles' vehemence. "You like it then?" he hedges.

"Oh fuck yeah, dude! Of course I do! I mean, I'd've been fine if you were cut, but…I've watched so much porn since my dad got me my first computer a few years ago—it's kind of embarrassing, really—and the guys with uncut dicks were always my favourite."

Derek is suitably reassured, ceasing his shuffling. "Okay then."

Resuming his exploratory stroking, Stiles is enraptured by how Derek's foreskin repeatedly peels back from the tip on every downstroke and covers it again with every upstroke. It's one of the sexiest sights Stiles has ever seen, so much so that he has to do it a few more times before he moves on. On the final stroke, he swipes his thumb over the underside of the tip, knowing to stimulate the glans from the copious research he's done. He's very pleased with himself when Derek throws his head back, eyes closing, and gives an aborted thrust, his body's urges almost eradicating his control.

"Stiles…" Derek groans, forcing himself to stop with what looks like great effort.

"Can I taste you?"

Another half thrust and moan. "Y-yeah," Derek says, so turned on that, when he opens his eyes, his irises are glowing a constant red.

Stiles pushes against Derek's muscular thighs to get him to take a step back and drops to his knees when there's enough space. This puts him at eye level with Derek's cock. It appears even bigger this close. Intimidating.

But when has Stiles ever been one to back down from a challenge?

With one hand around the base to keep it steady, fingers tangling in Derek's pubes, Stiles parts his lips and takes in the head. It rests heavy on his tongue.

"Take your time," Derek tells him, eyes still glowing. Stiles even sees a bit of fang. It's quite flattering.

Humming to show he heard, Stiles flicks his tongue out over Derek's slit and makes another sound, this one of consideration, as he tastes something bitter and slightly salty.

Pre-come.

He decides that, while not the best thing he's ever tasted, he doesn't mind it—and the fact that it's coming from Derek makes it better. He bobs his head slowly up and down, getting used to having a cock in his mouth, and soon finds a rhythm. His research once again pays off because he already knows a bunch of techniques to give a good blowjob. His inexperience probably still shows, but it's the thought that counts—and as it goes on, Derek doesn't seem to have any complaints, if the noises he makes are anything to go by.

Moans and other soft sounds of pleasure pour from the Alpha's mouth, and when Stiles peers back up at him through his eyelashes, he's happy to see that Derek's chest is heaving with laboured breaths and sports a light sheen of glistening sweat. His forehead is much the same, perspiration forming, and he clenches his hands into tight fists at his sides as he prevents himself from thrusting deeper into Stiles' mouth, choking him.

_There's a thought,_ Stiles muses. _Him fucking my mouth…_ It's a bit too adventurous for right now, though, so he decides to leave it until he's had more practise.

Redoubling his efforts, Stiles manages to get about halfway down Derek's shaft before the head hits the back of his throat and he has to stop. Releasing the Alpha with a wet pop, he blinks his eyes rapidly to rid them of the moisture forming there and gasps when, out of nowhere, Derek grabs him beneath his arms and tosses him back onto the bed.

"Hey! A little warning next time!" he reprimands.

"Sorry," Derek says, not sounding sorry at all. "S'just, I was gonna come soon if you got your mouth on me again, and I haven't had my turn yet."

Automatically spreading his legs to make space when Derek climbs on top of him, Stiles playfully narrows his eyes. He doesn't keep the act up for long, though. How can he, when Derek's stupidly pretty face hovers above his and he feels Derek's cock touching him between his legs. The fabric of his boxers is the only thing that prevents skin-to-skin contact, and this realisation has a fresh wave of arousal racking through him. He gets wetter—and from the way Derek's nostrils flare, it's not a secret.

"My turn," Derek says huskily, slithering down Stiles' body.

Stiles watches him go, ridiculously missing him already. "What—" His breath freezes in his lungs when Derek reaches his destination, his face mere inches away from his covered sex. "Oh."

"Like I said: it's my turn."

Stiles raises his hips to allow Derek to take off his boxers, and then they're finally both naked, and all of Stiles is bared to the older man.

"Yup…already dripping for me," Derek murmurs. He looks exceedingly proud of himself because of it.

"You gonna do something about it?" Stiles says timorously, his nervousness from earlier returning.

Derek gifts him with a wolfish grin—fitting—before beginning. He leaves Stiles in shock. It's so…different, being touched by someone else, especially seeing as that someone is using his mouth and not fingers or a sex toy. Stiles lies there and stares unseeingly up at the ceiling as he gets used to it. It doesn't take him long because Derek really gets going then, eating him out with verve, licking into him while intermittently giving a hint of teeth to Stiles' clit.

Pretty soon, Stiles' toes curl and he knows exactly what Derek meant when he cautioned him that he was going to orgasm too soon. Stiles is there now too, and he can't get out a warning before Derek pays special attention to his clit and it's too late. He flies over the edge of the cliff, clamping his thighs tight on either side of Derek's head and breathing through it as his body shakes.

When Derek lifts his mouth away from Stiles' sex, his lips, chin and part of his cheeks are all shiny. He licks his lips like he just can't get enough of Stiles' taste. "You good to keep going?"

Still quivering, Stiles nods and reaches blindly for the box of condoms he'd placed on the nightstand. When he finds it, he throws one at Derek, who catches it easily. "Need you inside me already," he pleads. "Like, yesterday."

"Well, even though I love eating you out, I'm not gonna say no to that."

"Good. Hop to it, cowboy."

Derek wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Cowboy? Really?"

"Forget it. Would you just fuck me already?" Stiles demands, getting impatient.

Derek snorts but complies, tearing open the condom and rolling it down his shaft. Stiles throws the lube at him next because, while he's probably wet enough that it wouldn't be much of an issue, it's better to be safe than sorry. He doesn't really want to know what friction burn feels like down there.

Once Derek has slicked up his cock, he plants one hand next to Stiles' head and uses the other to position the head of his cock at Stiles' entrance. "Ready?"

Stiles curls his legs around the backs of Derek's knees. "Y-yeah…do it."

The first push in isn't all that different from what Stiles is used to, at least at first. He's made good use of his dildo, so he doesn't find being filled by a real-life dick for the first time all that uncomfortable. What _is_ different, though, is the size—Derek is a bit bigger, just shy of being too big—and the fact that said dick is attached to a person. Derek's body radiates heat above him, and Stiles finds he can't tear his gaze from the Alpha's as every inch slides inside. He doesn't even blink, and it's so intimate that he almost can't bear it.

After what seems like a long time, Derek is finally all the way in, his balls resting in the space between Stiles' sex and his ass.

"How're you doing?" Derek enquires, laying some of his weight atop Stiles. It's comforting.

"Fine," Stiles answers. "It's kinda weird, but good at the same time."

"Good." Derek kisses him, giving Stiles a taste of himself. "Lemme know when I can move."

"Okay."

They share more kisses while Derek waits and Stiles acclimates. Stiles has never felt closer to another person.

Eventually, he thinks he's ready. He says as much and holds onto Derek's shoulders as the Alpha thrusts slowly. It's merely pleasant at first, but then Derek must change the angle or something because it unexpectedly gets a whole lot better. He throws his head back with a moan and holds on tighter, probably leaving bruises as his strength goes unchecked. Derek'll heal.

The older 'wolf doesn't stop, instead taking the sound for the encouragement it is and picking up the pace. Soon enough, Stiles' bedroom is filled with a cacophony of sound—their skin smacking together, the headboard banging into the wall, Derek growling and grunting, and Stiles nearly making himself hoarse with his cries.

Before he's really ready for it, Stiles feels the tell-tale signs of another impending orgasm but can't quite reach it on penetration alone. He slips a hand between their bodies to help himself along, and with Derek whispering encouragement in his ear, he clamps down tight around the Alpha's cock and shouts as he comes again. It leaves his toes tingling in the aftermath, and when he detects the scent of blood in the air, he only feels a little bad about the small puncture wounds he created with the hand he still has clasped around Derek's shoulder. His claws must have come out in the height of his orgasm.

Oops.

A moment later, Derek's thrusts get sloppier until, with a series of particularly vicious ones, Stiles can tell he's coming too. The Alpha howls as he fills the condom.

Stiles is prepared when he collapses, putting the majority of his 200-pound weight atop Stiles' smaller body. Thanks to his werewolf strength, Stiles is able to take it without an issue. He strokes his hands up and down Derek's sweaty back as both of them recover, and Derek tucks his face into Stiles' neck. From the contented rumbling coming from him, Stiles assumes he's taking in the combined scent of them. He agrees that they smell amazing together.

As Derek softens, he gets himself together enough to pull out before the condom can slip off, careful so as to not cause Stiles any pain. He flops down on his back next to him, ties off the condom and drops it onto the floor—a bit gross, Stiles thinks, but he can't be bothered with getting up to put it in the bin either.

That's a job for later.

"Well…that was over pretty quick," Stiles says.

Derek groans tiredly. "I guess."

"Was still great, though." Stiles turns into his side and props his head up on one hand so he can look down at Derek.

"Yeah? You're not disappointed?"

"No. Why would I be?"

Derek scratches absently at his stomach. "Because it was fast. I would've lasted longer, but it's been a while," he excuses.

Stiles uses his free hand to ruffle the Alpha's chest hair. "I don't mind. You wanna know why?"

"Yeah."

Stiles smiles conspiratorially and flicks Derek's nipple with his finger. "Because we can just go again. Duh."

Derek snorts and catches Stiles' hand in one of his own to prevent his nipple from being tormented again. "You sound sure of yourself."

"Well, according to what I've gleaned from the many times Scott's overshared about him and Allison, he's got a much shorter refractory period than he used to. I figured it was a werewolf thing, so…must be true for you too."

Derek's countenance becomes amused. "Oh yeah?"

"Is it or isn't it?"

Derek doesn't answer verbally. Instead, he lifts his head and looks down the length of his own body. Stiles follows his gaze and is turned on all over again because, there against Derek's thigh, his cock is already refilling with blood.

"Awesome. Grab another condom, Sourwolf," Stiles commands, swinging himself up and around so he's straddling Derek's thighs.

Derek does so and proffers it to Stiles. "You're ready to go again too, I take it?"

"Hell yeah, I am." Stiles snatches a condom and leans down to speak right in Derek's ear. "And you wanna know the best part?"

Derek whines.

"This time," Stiles says, nibbling on his earlobe. "I'm gonna take my time and ride you until you're begging me to let you come."

Stiles doesn't miss how Derek shudders beneath him. He's smugly satisfied as sits back up and strokes Derek's cock back to full hardness. "Get ready, Der-bear."

Said werewolf tucks his hands behind his head, showing off his hairy pits, and settles in for the long haul. "Oh, I'm ready," he says just as his erection becomes full and thick.

After rolling on the condom—with less skill that Derek had—Stiles shuffles forward and raises himself up so that he's poised to sink right down on the Alpha's cock. He doesn't do so immediately, though, just stays there and lets the tension build.

Right as Derek opens his mouth again, most likely to complain, he shoves himself down on Derek's cock and bites hard into his bottom lip.

"Fuck!" he gasps, rocking slowly back and forth in Derek's lap. "You feel even bigger like this somehow."

His eyes hooded and blood-red one more, Derek peers up at him and removes his hands from behind his head to grip the slats of the headboard instead. The wood creeks dangerously, and Stiles worries for a moment that he's going to have to explain to his dad why his bed is broken before pushing the concern aside. There are more pressing things to concentrate on right now, like the massive dick inside of him and the beautiful man beneath him, once again sweating and panting.

Planting his hands on Derek's pecs and relishing the firm muscles with a squeeze, Stiles puts his legs to work and slowly fucks himself on the Alpha's cock. It strains his thighs, but it's more than worth it just to watch as pleasure contorts Derek's face in all sorts of sexy ways. He shifts backward slightly and falls into a steady rhythm when he believes he's found the right angle, Derek's pubes tickling his clit each time he sinks all the way down. It's wonderful.

"You're still so tight," Derek grits out. Coarse hair grows down the sides of his face as he fails to hold back his beta shift.

"And you're so fucking hot right now," Stiles compliments breathlessly.

He's always found Derek's beta form hot as hell, and right now is no exception. He follows suit, allowing his own shift to fully take over so they're like two animals lost in the heat of their mating.

It's as he pushes the muscles of his legs to their limit and rides Derek even harder that something changes. It's like Derek's cock is getting impossibly bigger, tougher to take all the way inside his body every time he sinks down on it.

"What's going on?" he asks, confused but not enough to stop.

Derek's eyes go wide with surprise and he actually breaks one of the slats in the headboard like Stiles thought he might. "It— It can't be…"

Still riding him for all he's worth, Stiles hisses through his fangs as Derek just gets larger. It's painful now, but he doesn't think he could stop if he wanted to. Some animalistic instinct deep inside won't let him.

"It's you," Derek whispers, his voice filled with wonder.

"Derek, what?" Stiles urges.

Before the Alpha can apprise him of what he's just realised, Stiles finds himself unable to rise up anymore. It's like he's stuck, something at the base of Derek's dick holding him deep inside. He whimpers and can't resist touching himself again, and the dual stimulation brings on his third orgasm of the night—this one even more intense than the first two. It's so fucking much, so overwhelming that his vision gets a bit hazy around the edges and he has to stay very still to ensure he doesn't actually pass out before he can get answers.

"Derek…" he says once it's mostly over, digging his claws into his lover's pecs. Derek's cock twitches every few seconds inside of him. "Tell me."

Derek licks over his top fangs and uses the hand no longer holding the headboard to cup the side of Stiles' face. "You're my true mate."

Blinking down at him, Stiles struggles to comprehend this information, still mostly lost to the lingering sensations coursing through him. "I'm w-what?"

"My true mate."

"Gee, that explains— Explains everything. Thanks. Let's try something else: what's happened to your dick?"

"I've knotted you." Derek's eyelids flutter when Stiles works his inner muscles around him experimentally. "I didn't think I'd ever know what this is like…"

Finally regaining the full use of his brain, Stiles puts two and two together. "Because we're true mates? Whatever that means."

"Yes." Derek continues to look up at him in wonder. "It's like the werewolf version of soulmates."

Stiles' non-existent eyebrows rise on his forehead. "Oh. That's real?"

"Mmhmm," Derek hums. "I just never thought I'd find mine. It's extremely rare, given how many people there are in the world."

"And knotting is actually a thing?" Stiles gives another squeeze. "Damn…I guess it is, huh? Can't really deny it when it's inside me."

"Nope."

"Should I be worried about the condom? I kinda think my dad will murder us both if I end up getting pregnant."

Derek shakes his head. "It should hold."

"Okay…good."

Both of them moan when Derek sits up, jostling where they're joined. He takes Stiles' face in both hands now and rests their foreheads together. Neither of them shut their eyes. Red stares straight into gold, and Stiles gets the impression that Derek is seeing right through him. He certainly feels like he can see right to Derek's very core.

Is that part of the whole 'true mates' deal?

"Can you feel it?" Derek asks, stroking his thumbs back and forth over Stiles' cheekbones.

"I-I think so," Stiles replies, an unusual warmth taking up residence in his chest, right behind his heart. "Is that…you?"

"Yeah. I can feel you too."

"It's strange."

"It is."

"I like it, though."

Derek smiles, a sweet thing. "Me too."

Stiles' beta shift recedes, but his eyes stay gold. "Is this how it's always gonna be?"

"Pretty much." Derek winds his arms around Stiles' back, holding him like he's something precious. "You'll feel it more when we're physically together, but we'll always be able to sense each other."

"Guess I got even more than I bargained for when that Alpha bit me, didn't I?"

This causes Derek's smile to fade into a frown. "Do you regret it?"

Stiles' response is instant and ardent. "No!" he exclaims. "I could never regret you, Sourwolf. It's just a lot to get used to, is all."

His concerns allayed, the smile returns to Derek's lips. It lights up his whole face. "Good."

"So…" Stiles wiggles in the Alpha's lap. "How long until your knot goes down?"

"I don't know."

"That's helpful."

"I already told you I've never done this before, Stiles," Derek reminds him flatly.

Stiles supposes he doesn't really mind. It's nice, being so connected like this, and Derek's knot isn't painful anymore. "Guess we'd better get comfortable."

"Guess so."

Before Derek can lie back down and bring him to lie on top of him, Stiles takes his turn to cradle Derek's face. Basking in the afterglow of two spectacular orgasms and the revelation that they're apparently destined to be together, Stiles can't help three words from falling from his lips. Fuck what he's heard other people say, about how it's not appropriate to say it for the first time during or right after sex. It feels right to him.

"I love you," Stiles says, meaning every word.

Derek's beta shift retreats, and then he looks so much younger. A series of complicated emotions flit across his face in rapid succession until, finally, it settles on something that has Stiles believing he might cry.

"I love you too," Derek whispers, kissing Stiles as if he has to prove to himself that this is real.

With everything that's happened in Derek's past, all the awful things people have done to him, all that's been taken from him…Stiles can understand this reaction. It fills him with an urge to protect, to hunt all of those people down and—to borrow one of Derek's threats—rip their throats out with his teeth. He can't do that, but what he _can_ do is remain by Derek's side, assisting him with the Hale Pack and being there whenever new adversaries show up in Beacon Hills to challenge them.

A few minutes later, Stiles lies atop Derek, his nose in Derek's neck. Neither speaks. They just breathe, happy, like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

In a while, Stiles knows he'll have to get up and both of them should shower to wash the sweat and other fluids from their bodies. Change the sheets too. Then, tomorrow, they'll have to face reality again.

But for now, he stays lying there, listening as Derek's heart seems to beat in sync with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I _finally_ got around to finishing this fic! Better late than never, right? I'm a little unsure about it, to be honest. I'm confident in the writing itself, but since I'm a gay man who's never even seen a vagina up close in real life, I'm not as confident in the subject matter. Because of this, I have a question for my female readers (or anyone currently in possession of a vagina): how do you think I did? Let me know. :)
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Derek is a Mafia boss and Stiles is turned on by his ruthlessness.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future updates go live. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


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